Stupid Poet
by rubies'n'diamonds
Summary: Archie never liked Shakespeare...So, why should he start now..? A/A
1. Archibald and Shakespeare

**Disclaimer:** I do not own 'Class of the Titans' or William Shakespeare's 'Sonnet 18' or 'Romeo and Juliet'. I make no money from this publication.

**A/N:** Tis dazzeling diamond here (Lol, you're probably sick of me by now...the amount of times I have to say "it's me...not Ruby") and Ruby (my fab writing partner and beta) was kind enough to let me post this fic here. I've said it before, oneshots are not my strong point...but for me they are just a bit of fun, and not necessarily a story in full. I hope you enjoy this light-hearted A/A fic :)

"Stupid Poet!"

By dazzeling diamond

"_Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?_

_Thou art more lovely and temperate:_

_Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May…_Now, Archibald……_Archibald…_Archibald Redford! Are you listening?_"_

Archie barely registered the voice as he slept, head on his desk, his arms covering the numerous scribbles he'd done where his poetry analysis should have been. Mrs. Lawrence, a middle-aged woman whose love for poetry was regularly diminished by her students' disinterest, stared intently at the purple-haired adolescent.

"Wake up, Archie!" Atlanta hissed from behind, prodding him violently with her pencil.

As a result, Archie's spine jerked forward, snapping his head straight up as he desperately blurted,

"It wasn't me!"

The entire English class laughed at him, while Mrs. Lawrence sighed, the likeness of exasperation forming on her face. Archie glanced up at his teacher, and shrugged sheepishly. Unable to tolerate him anymore, Mrs. Lawrence walked to the front of the room, a slight irritation in her step.

Archie frowned, it didn't help that Ares had made him train twice as long last night. Then, thanks to Hera and her insistence that the teenagers not let their grades slip, Archie had spent the most of his night in the library, feverishly attempting to pay attention to Odie, who'd agreed to tutor him for his biology assignment. Right then, all Archie could remember was 'mitochondria' and "chlorophyll'.

_So much for studying,_ he thought, as the temptation to sleep began to weigh down on his eyelids.

"Now, before we were so rudely interrupted by our very own 'sleeping beauty'," Mrs. Lawrence paused, while the class snickered indiscreetly, "we were discussing Shakespeare's use of language and intent…"

She continued, at least, in Archie's mind, to _harp _on about the 'fading beauty' and 'stability of love and its power to immortalize poetry'. Unable to avoid mentally drifting away from the lesson, Archie closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead with slowed frustration. _Stupid Shakespeare_, he thought. He really was a pain in the posterior, an insult to all the great poets. Studying him was more than a nightmare…it was a nightmare you couldn't wake up from until you received that exam essay with a big red grade on the front. _Fun…_he mused.

He then stared at his page, where he was supposed to have analysed, deconstructed and explained all the implicit and explicit meanings of Shakespeare's "Sonnet 18". Well, the page was far from blank…it contained several miniature caricatures of Mrs. Lawrence, with expressions detailing the various degrees of rage, as well as a few messily written definitions for "assonance" and "couplet".

There was also a scribbled smiley face with its abnormally long tongue sticking out, drawn by Atlanta at the start of the lesson, prior to Mrs. Lawrence's arrival. In return, Archie drew on her page, a mocking image of Shakespeare, chewing on the end of a quill while sweat beads the size of tennis balls rolled of his face. In the picture, Shakespeare was reading "The Idiot's Guide to Poetry"…with the book upside down.

Mrs. Lawrence came forward, her forehead creased with exhaustion. She paused in front of Archie, curiously inspecting the drawings on his analysis sheet. Quickly, Archie flipped his page over, placing his elbow over it, his head resting nonchalantly in his hand. He turned in his chair so his legs were to its side, and smiled, with what he hoped was 'charm'. Without moving, he could hear Atlanta's attempt at stifling laughter.

"Ah, Mr. Rip Van Winkle, himself!" exclaimed Mrs. Lawrence "Well, seeing as you had all that time to rest, you must already have a complete and thorough understanding of William Shakespeare and his work…Tell us, Archibald, what do _you_ think of the themes and subject matter that he consistently presents throughout his work, be it his poetry or his plays?"

_It's Archie…not Archibald!_ He cringed, mentally. Gulping, he looked at the rest of the class, their faces displaying no sympathy, only signs of suppressed laughter. He_ deliberately_ avoided looking at Atlanta. Turning back to face Mrs. Lawrence's expectant glare, Archie shook his head. That was it; it was only for so long he could play the fool, before he became irritated. He wanted her opinion on Shakespeare? She was going to get it. Heck, he'd stand in front of the class and give an entire speech!

"Mrs. Lawrence," he began curtly, as he tried to hide the knowing smiling on his face "I, personally, find Shakespeare's themes to be relevant yet the way he portrays his characters, and his use of archetypes is very obvious, and betrays a solid storyline or subject. He litters his plays and poetry with innuendo, the kind that overdoes a meaning and thus destroys it in the process." Everyone simply stared at him.

"He is far too obsessed with pretension and this overshadows his use of themes…the light and dark use of imagery is, eclipsed when you look at the overall story, and does not reach the common person. Many of his stories are clichéd and unexciting, and have become the predictable formulas for stories today His work is nothing compared to that of Homer, Sappho or Pindar." Archie finished.

The class was silent. Atlanta dropped her pencil, which resounded with a '_plink_' on the floor. Archie felt both triumphant and embarrassed, having dropped perhaps too much knowledge of poetry. So much for keeping the poetry obsession a secret!

Mrs. Lawrence stared, her mouth ajar. She peered at him over her glasses, once she regained her stature.

"Well, Archibald," she began, somewhat shakily "It would appear you have knowledge of the Classical and Pre-Classical Greek poetry…what a…boon, for you. While you are entitled to your opinion of William Shakespeare, you are unfortunately going to have to bear with me, as we are about to delve further into his work, especially into his plays, for the rest of the term."

_Oh, great…_ he thought, groaning inwardly. He never liked Shakespeare, and he wasn't about to start now, just because they still had a term's worth of study left.

"We are going to be studying "Romeo and Juliet"," Mrs. Lawrence continued, listening to the expected cooing from the girls and the grunting from the boys "and after we analyse it, you are going to be doing dramatic enactments of the play, with the scenes of your choice, and you will hand in a piece analysing of the scene."

_This couldn't get any worse_, thought Archie, as he slumped in his seat. Atlanta poked him again, less violently this time.

"Oh boo hoo!" she whispered, her breath tickling his ear "You'll get over it!"

"Yeah, thanks for the reassurance," he replied sarcastically.

"Oh, did I mention that this presentation is done in pairs? Well, after all, someone has to be Romeo and someone has to be Juliet…" said Mrs. Lawrence, her eyes narrowing in on Archie. Pairs? For a second his eyes locked pleadingly with hers. Whether she understood what he was hoping for, he wasn't sure.

_Sure he thought Shakespeare was pretentious… _

Mrs. Lawrence returned to her desk and started reading in a low monotone, "David Angelo…you're with Bella Brinkley"

_Sure, he thought his poems lacked substance…_

"Jason Chun, you are with Kelly Forsythe…Molly Jacobs, you are paired with Christopher Lawson…." She continued to rattle names, until only two pairs remained.

_So Archie never liked Shakespeare…_

"Archibald Redford," said Mrs. Lawrence, glancing up at the adolescent "You're with…Atlanta Greene,"

_He could always learn to adjust!_

* * *

Yes, I know, it was predictable...but like I said, not a serious story...just bit of light-hearted fun, and maybe something I could continue with, another time.

Reviewers will be loved :)


	2. Voices in the Library

**Disclaimer: I do not own CoTT, its characters etc...Oh and dreams don't count, you can't sue me for that!**

**A/N: **Well, based on the poll results, I decided (after a very long time! I know!) to make a short-ish story out of it. Thank you SOOOOOO much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, without your encouragement I wouldnt't be continuing this. Also, thank you UBER much to Ruby, my wonderful beta/friend/writing partner! You, my dear, are AWESOME!

Enjoy! Reviewers will be loved!

* * *

"Now. Repeat. After. Me." Atlanta ordered, with a sharp staccato enunciation.

She turned to the purple haired adolescent standing in front of her, his eyebrows were brushstrokes of disbelief, while his mouth seemed set in a permanent smirk. In order to avoid the rest of the student body discovering their rehearsals, the two were in Gods' library. Luckily, none of their group seemed present to witness their dramatic attempts at Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet". Archie leant against a shelf, his arms crossed, eyes rolling. The library was relatively dim, but Atlanta did not miss his demonstration of carelessness.

Atlanta glared at him, the red spikes of her hair seemed to flicker like flames.

"I DON'T want to fail this, Archie…or should I say, _Archibald_?"

"Never call me that again. Ever." Archie whispered, his voice dark and measured. Jumping out of his blasé position, he began circling one of the tables, his eyes cast towards the ground. Slumping into one of the random chairs around the table, he rubbed his eyes with one hand, and gestured for Atlanta to continue with the other.

Walking forward, Atlanta nodded and turned her gaze back to the script. Scanning the page, she zoomed towards him once she was triumphant in locating the correct line. With a miniature sense of victory, she jumped, virtually landing into one of the seats.

"Ok," she began "This is the line, are you ready?"

Archie stared at her for a split second. He examined the intensity that seemed to burn inside her irises. He saw the frantic success she experienced locating lines on the script. _Why is SHE so _into_ this?_ He wondered, twisting his mouth in thought.

"Archie, pay attention! And _what_ are you looking at?" Atlanta questioned, interrupting his mental daze. The male teenager barely registered what she had said. He did, however, register the well-thrown punch into his arm, where his muscles received a relatively unexpected twinge of pain.

"Seriously, Atlanta, what was that for?" he asked, rubbing his arm.

"Honestly, Archie…I'm over this! I don't want to fail, but if you're just going to be an idiot about the whole thing, I think I may just have to ask Mrs. Lawrence for a new partner!" she shrieked rather girlishly. She paused for a moment, her eyes wide as she very nearly covered her mouth. Of course, any shame was avoided by crossing her arms, and standing rigidly in front of him, counteracting the femininity of the argument she'd just presented.

"A'right, jeez! Ok, ok…_let's rehearse_." Archie agreed quickly, his voice dulling gradually. She searched his face for any signs of insincerity, but all she noticed was him scratching his head in puzzlement, as he stared her disarmingly.

"Good!" Atlanta concluded, her heart thumping like the earth during a stampede.

Archie nodded, exhaling heavily. He still maintained Shakespeare was stupid, in spite of the fact that it meant he spent extra time with Atlanta. The other day, he had been watching Theresa and Jay rehearsing their play, for their English class. They were doing Oscar Wilde's "The Importance of Being Earnest"…Why couldn't he have been as lucky. Now _that_ was a good play, one with clever dialogue, witty plotline and excellent characters.

"Ok, Arch, here's your line," Atlanta began, her strong voice interrupting the mental montage of Jay attempting speak like an aristocratic Brit, that had been running through Archie's head. He did so enjoy watching their rehearsals. Just as well that they weren't there for his…

"Right," Archie replied, genuinely _attempting_ to pay attention.

Atlanta's gaze darted around the library, avoiding Archie's eyes, as she cleared her throat. Holding the script up, in a shield-like manner, she read.

"_Oh! What light through yonder window breaks!_"

Glancing at him with raised eyebrows, she threw him a miniature nod, signaling for him to read the line. Groaning inwardly, Archie began, imitating her very tones:

"_Oh! What a load of_—"

"ARCHIE."

"Sorry! Sorry!" he answered, his grin betraying him.

"I've had just about enough…just because you won't learn your lines, doesn't mean I can't learn mine! Why am I wasting my time hand-holding you with yours? ARGGHH, That's it, I'm asking Odie to help me!"

_Drama Queen moment to the MAX! _Archie thought, as he watched Atlanta try to storm out of the library, a feat which was ruined by the fact that she dropped the pages of the script, and thus had to scramble to collect them all, before she resumed her 'storming'.

_Either she's been spending too much time with Theresa…or Shakespeare's gone to her head_, he mentally decided. Crossing his arms and placing his feet on the edge of the table, Archie sat in the silence of the library for several minutes.

"Oh honey, you're no clearly no Romeo…why don't you just let her find another partner? It would make it SO much easier on both of you." chimed a musical voice. Archie swung his legs from the table, and sat up, his eyes searching the library. Reaching into his pocket, he gripped his whip.

"Who are you and…uh…_where_ are you?" Archie yelled, his voice echoing in the library.

There was no response. Clinging cautiously to his whip, Archie changed his stance, solidifying his position into one of attack. "I'm serious…this is not a game, so you know, show…Show yourself!" he ordered, hoping his vocals weren't as shaky as they felt. Had everyone else been present, he would have felt differently, but being alone in a library while a mystery voice, albeit a very pretty one, spoke to you, was a little bit 'Gaston Leroux's "Phantom of the Opera"'. _Another great title_, Archie thought, mid-attack plan.

"Oh calm down, sweetie!" the voice rang again "If you're so eager to see me, you'll have to try a little harder than that!"

Archie's jaw tightened. He let go of his whip, having determined no real threat. Swallowing the accumulation of spit that had somehow built up in his mouth, unbeknownst to him, he stared at the ceiling. It was a natural instinct, whenever one hears mysterious voices that do not appear, staring at the ceiling in hope of finding them felt somewhat normal.

"Oh, darling…don't be discouraged! It's nothing against you, really, but seeing as you cannot _stand_ Shakespeare and you're standing in her way, it would be much simpler for you to step down, no?" the voice rang again. It was a beautiful voice, feminine and lilting. For a moment all Archie could do was count the echoes as they faded. Shaking his head in realization, agitation reentered his hands. Forming clenched fists, Archie jumped on to the table.

"I mean it…show yourself." He commanded. The voice sighed, resounding beautifully even with the library's poor acoustics.

"Alright," she said, her voice soothing and melodious "I will."

* * *

**Comments are always welcome :D**


	3. The Voice from 'Da Hood'

**Disclaimer: Refer to the first chapter…and I do not own any published titles that may appear in this story**

**A/N: **Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, and also, to those who have story on alert and are reading. Please, feel free to drop a comment/review/msg in any time! I hope you enjoy this chapter! Also just know, this story is a relaxed, less-serious style of my writing…I mean, you're not silly, you can see that! But I just thought I'd put it out there. **And**, two little moments in this story were inspired by African-Titan and Wings of Corrugated Irony (also known as the 'Ruby' in rubies'n'diamonds) although I don't know if they'll pick up where they inspired it (well, Ruby might…her's is obvious!) Also, the lyrics (if you can call them that!) are made up in this, I own them.

**Recap: **

"Oh, darling…don't be discouraged! It's nothing against you, really, but seeing as you cannot _stand_ Shakespeare and you're standing in her way, it would be much simpler for you to step down, no?" the voice rang again. It was a beautiful voice, feminine and lilting. For a moment all Archie could do was count the echoes as they faded. Shaking his head in realization, agitation reentered his hands. Forming clenched fists, Archie jumped on to the table.

"I mean it…show yourself." He commanded. The voice sighed, resounding beautifully even with the library's poor acoustics.

"Alright," she said, her voice soothing and melodious "I will."

**Chapter 3:**

Archie waited for the owner of the voice to magically materialize in front of him. As he waited, he heard a rhythmic beat, a smooth jazz beat combined with blues notes, played on a…harp? His untrained ear was struggling to truly identify the instruments, but there was no denying the hypnotic effect of the music. For a short while, he forgot he was waiting for anything.

"On second thought," the voice chimed "perhaps it's best you wait…I'm not sure now is the best time to come forward…"

"What?" Archie blurted, exasperation inflaming his voice "That is NOT on…you show yourself now. I mean it's rude enough that you were watching our rehearsals without permission, but now you're backing out on what you said you would do?"

The music continued to play, flowing beautifully from an unknown source within the library. In fact, it seemed to grow louder. The syncopated jazz beat suddenly turned fierce, into a street-style bass drop, while the harp was amplified, synthesised and increased in tempo. Just then, Archie felt unsteady, shifting his feet to restore some strength to his pose. It didn't work. Glancing at the ground, Archie realised the problem. The very floor of the library began to tremor in time to the hip-hop bass. _Well that's unusual…_ Archie thought nervously. Attempting to stand straight, Archie clutched the head of a chair, which then proceeded to buckle under the pressure of the deafening bass. Falling in pieces to the ground, the chair let a single handle in Archie's hand and a stunned expression on his face.

Immediately, he jumped on the table, hoping the mesmerizing music wouldn't extend to the rest of the furniture.

"What are you doing?" Archie yelled, unable to hear his own voice

"Oh, this?" the voice taunted, as the bookshelves began to sway in time to the quavering notes of the harp. There seemed to be a magnetic thread between each shelf, with a force _just_ strong enough to avoid the collision a million books and scrolls, performed like an interpretive dance.

"Stop that!" Archie cried out, covering his ears.

Then everything came to a halt.

"How dare you!" the voice burst "Telling me that I'm the rude one, after the way you treated her and her wish to rehearse! Then, to further your ignorance, I never PROMISED I would show myself…I considered it and conceded, and then I decided to change my mind for the better. I _was_ going to help you…but perhaps you could take some of that overly inflated macho bravado and find a way to do it yourself, oh superior one!"

Her voice echoed again, this time, Archie was unsure whether it was in his mind or in the air, but he certainly felt more than nervous after library's musical behaviour, it was definitely the first time that it had attempted to rival a hollywood nightclub. But all sound had faded, all shelves were still. It was dead calm.

Archie's eyes shifted slowly from side to side, the dim library seemed lifeless now. Unsure of whether he was truly alone, Archie poked the air around him, wondering whether he'd set off some invisible jukebox earlier. Not a sound was made. Although Archie's ego was vaguely wounded, he despised the idea of dwelling on the voice's comments, even if her voice managed to make an insult sound like the most captivating aria.

Without another thought on the matter, Archie grabbed his script, leapt off the table and left the library. There was no way he was staying in there now.

* * *

"Ok, Odie, are you ready?" Atlanta asked nervously, as she grinned into the face of the African-American boy. Given Archie's ridiculous display in the library, Atlanta couldn't care less as to whether Odie was ready, as long as he read his lines agreeably.

Odie scratched his head and peered at his script, avoiding Atlanta's wide and hopeful eyes. The young genius studied the lines momentarily, and then glanced at Atlanta over the top of his grin-tinted glasses.

"You want me to read…all these lines?" he asked, his voice flat.

Atlanta nodded buoyantly, forcing a friendly smile on her face. Odie swallowed the pillow of spit sitting unpleasantly on his tongue and attempted to match Atlanta's smile, involuntarily thumbing the buttons of his Xbox controller. He had only agreed because he knew how important grades were to Atlanta, but drama king, he was not. Sitting on the couch of the brownstone living room, Odie paused the Xbox and turned his body to face his reading partner. Ruffling the sleeve of Odie's shirt, Atlanta laughed.

"Chill, Odie, you're just reading the lines…You don't need to worry about dramatic expression or anything…_I_ just need someone to practice with…" she paused, as a dark cloud passed over her face, her voice lowering "because _someone_ is too immature to rehearse properly…"

Snapping back to attention, Atlanta noted Odie's bewildered face and decidedly ignored it.

"So are you ready?" Atlanta repeated, veiling the impatience in her voice.

Odie nodded solemnly, and wore a face that suggested he'd just been sentenced to twenty years hard time, without the chance of any computer or internet access. An audible sigh floated in his direction. Turning to face Atlanta, Odie returned the sigh.

"I'm ready…ok, here I go," Odie said, breathing deeply. Opening his mouth widely, the words barely escaped Odie's lips before the slid rapidly back down his throat. _That was interesting_…like _swallowing straight vodka, only this burn was pleasant…_Odie mused, recalling the one time his brother and a bunch of his brother's friends virtually forced it down his throat at the only party he'd every been to. He never touched the stuff after that.

"I'm sorry, Atlanta," Odie began, looking at the controller lying on the table "I-I have issues with lines…and plays…bad memories."

"It's ok Odie," Atlanta replied softly, feeling to sorry for the boy once she noticed his face, the unadulterated fear plastered like a death mask "I guess I'll go ask Jay, tear his mind away from Cronus and British accents, aye?"

Odie nodded "Yeah, try him…and again, I'm sorry."

"No problem." Atlanta answered honestly. _At least he had the decency to stop the rehearsal…and apologise…unlike SOME people!_ Her inner voice growled. Leaping up the staircase four steps at a time, Atlanta went in search of Jay.

* * *

"_Ooh_ _baby, your lovin' is like sugar and spice, you gotta suh'n naughty and nice…" _Theresa sang into her hairbrush, flipping her tangerine locks with incredible panache. Strutting over to her stereo, Theresa turned up the volume on her iPod dock, and resumed her hair-flipping, body-rolling dance.

"…_and baby when you sing so sweet, it's the like the sweetest sound of sin, so I'mma lock yo' lovin' in, here and now, you knooooooow I. Love. Yo'. Lovin' and that's Why-eee-aaiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIIII…,"_ unselfconsciously, Theresa belted out the pre-chorus, her vague attempt at sounding like a girl from 'da hood' barely mattered when there was no one around to witness her failure.

"Um, what?" rang a curiously arrogant voice.

Theresa spun around, her hair whipping her face like a possessed flag. Staring at her, for who knew how long, was Archie. Judging from his expression, it was long enough for him to see…well…enough.

Crossing her arms, Theresa raised a single eyebrow. "Heard of 'KNOCKING'?"

"Heard of…'the door was actually open, and the sound pollution that was coming from your room pretty much warranted an entry'?" Archie retorted, crossing his arms as he leant into the doorway, unable to wipe off the smirk as he stared at a squirming Theresa.

"I don't CARE, what you think warranted an entry…ALWAYS knock, you hear me!" she screamed, striding forward, preparing to shove the purple-haired adolescent into the hallway.

"Aye! Aye! Hold on? Where's the rush, _Beyoncé_?" Archie asked, as he burst into a bout of uncontrollable laughter. A feminine growl resounded behind him, as two hands shoved his unwilling body from the doorway.

"I'm serious, wait!" Archie protested, turning around, as Theresa jumped backwards.

"What?" she asked, her olive eyes flashed with a steely skepticism.

"_Ooh baby boo, you gotta give me some of yo' honey, you know I ain't talkin bout yo' cards or money, just that kissin', I be missin'…"_

Both teenagers paused as the music continued. Suddenly Archie's face paled several shades. Theresa studied his suddenly pallor complexion, and noted how wonderfully it was complemented by the purple flame of his hair, and then noticed the frozen position of his features. Snapping her fingers in front of his face, she waited for him to verbally snap at her.

"Would you quit with the snapping?" Archie burst, his voice underlined by flames.

Theresa rolled her eyes. "What's wrong with you? You're always weird, but seriously, what was with the porcelain doll face?"

Archie cringed, as Theresa smiled in self-satisfaction. He craned his neck to listen to the music wafting from Theresa's iPod speakers, a very smooth, very seductive R'n'B beat was virtually rolling out of her room…pimped up car and all.

"_Ooh baby, you a jealous boy, you got that sexy thang, that envy thang, that __'I gotta have u thang', buh all I'm sa'ing…_"

"Who is that?" Archie asked, as his larynx pole-vaulted to the top of his throat.

Theresa giggled inwardly, her thoughts momentarily on Archie's vocal instability.

"Who is who?" she questioned, smiling teasingly.

"That _singer?_" he urged, his voice decidedly remaining in it's new position. Arhice clutched his throat.

"_That_ is Erika…she's only the hottest R'n'B singer...Ever." Theresa answered, when she noticed Archie's eyes fishing hers for more information "She writes all her own songs, seriously, her love ballads are AMAZING. I mean, so are her other songs, but wow…seriously, I've never heard anything like her lyrics—

"Yeah…" Archie interrupted "I'm gonna go now…your singing, by the way…waaaayyyy too white-girl, but not half-bad."

Theresa rolled her eyes upwards and tilted her head to the side. With that, Archie practically disappeared. Glancing over the stairway, Theresa paused. _Did he just compliment me in an off-centre Archie kinda way? Wow, he must be more spun out than I thought…_Theresa concluded, as she strutted back into her room.

"Holy. Mother. Of. Puh-rada. Is that _Eriiiika?_" shrieked a voice, whose larynx permanently resided in the vocal penthouse. Spinning around, Theresa noted Neil standing with an incredibly stunned look on his face.

Neil smiled pleadingly. "Can I join you? PLEASE…I've been dying to get her new album, but I got kind of distracted at the CD store, those disk cases are really shiny and well…"

"Come on, Neil!" Theresa said excitedly, grabbing the blond's arm as the two forgot the world, singing away into their hairbrushes.

* * *

Archie raced back to the library with a voice in his head. No, not his own, but Erika's. That girl had some voice. Even Theresa's pretty voice couldn't match it. But that wasn't what was bothering him, not at all.

Archie barely registered the anything on his way as he ran into the God's library. _That's gotta be a record_, Archie thought, as he stood on the velvety library carpet, where'd he'd stood just a few hours earlier. He paused, as he glanced around the immense room, waiting for the study tables to start krumping. Nothing happened.

He was sure of it. Erika. She had _that voice_. There couldn't be any two people with a voice like that.

"Ok, _Erika_…show yourself!" Archie yelled, his voice hardly gaining enough momentum to create an echo. _Well, that was a let down_…he thought, waiting for the library to welcome his voice as it did hers.

"Scared, _Erika? _Are you AFRAID? I know who you are now…it's no good hiding!" Archie bellowed loudly. Nothing happened.

Suddenly, the alluring jazz beat returned, stroking the very air of the library. Such a strange kind of music it was. It sounded like it belonged there, as though without it, the world would elapse into permanent silence, into a state of unnaturalness.

"Come on ERIKA. It's no use pretending." Archie urged, his eyes dancing in time to the music.

Suddenly a shadow appeared in the bookshelf, and an hourglass silhouette of a woman could be seen, heading slowly in his direction.

"It's not Erika…" she said, her soulful tones caressing Archie's ears "It's Erato."

* * *

**Thoughts/comments/suggestions/constructive critique...all welcome :D No discrimination here!**


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